The seals!

Seals, seals everywhere…

Living in the middle of a seal colony is a bit nuts. The smell alone is pretty spectacular… not to mention the noise. Fur seals are the ultimate noisy neighbours, and they certainly don’t let a bit of darkness get in the way of a good chat. Their squeals, grunts, growls, whimpers and signature “hoof-choofing” can be heard at all times of the day and night. It’s madness out there. And it’s not only out there, leave your door open and fresh air isn’t the only thing you’ll get breezing in!

Puppies invite themselves in and get comfortable in the kitchen.

Just outside the doors and windows of the base a whole world of drama is unfolding. It seems pretty non-stop, but in-between the fights, the births, the copulations and unfortunately the deaths, there are occasional moments of peace for some of the seals. Some will catch a quick 40 winks, but another favourite pastime seems to be Seal Yoga.  The only thing that appears to beat a good stretch is a nice, long scratch. Anything from a flipper, to a rock, to a corner of the base steps will do for a seal with an itch (which seems to be most of them).

A big male practicing a spot of Seal Yoga

Amongst the thousands of fur seals are the occasional impostors. The lumbering, tubby elephant seals always look a bit confused and outraged by the furry mayhem going on around them, but they do their best to find somewhere to doze off and ignore their hyperactive cousins.

Ellies looking confused about where they are and how they got there.

One of the greatest things about the fur seals, is seeing the mother-pup interactions. Once the pup has overcome the initial shock of life in the colony the mum begins taking short trips out at sea to feed on krill. While unsupervised the puppies tend to race around chasing and fighting each other, checking out their surroundings and finding the best spots to sleep in.

Puppies will squeeze themselves into any area not puppy-proofed.

The re-unions are always worth taking time to watch. A female will arrive on the beach sleek and hopefully with a belly full of food and begin calling for her pup. Her calls often result in a commotion of eager replies from every surrounding pup, but eventually she will distinguish the familiar call of her own pup and the two will be re-united. It’s hard to describe the pup’s reaction to its mother on her return, but there is a lot of noise, nuzzling and excited ‘wiggling’. It’s almost like they thought they would never see their mummy again and now they literally can’t contain their excitement and might explode with happiness at any moment. After a good feed, the pair usual settle down for a nap together and don’t separate until Mum goes back to sea again.

A female rests on the beach with her rare blonde-furred pup

Hello Bird Island

Getting into the swing of things:

Arriving on Bird Island was a bit of a shock to the system. For the first three days it was a manic flurry of activity and people as we unloaded the bulk of the year’s supplies (including food and fuel to get us through the summer and following winter), and at the same time I was delving into the seal work, which meant morning and evening visits to the Special Study Beach (SSB) to see the lovely, long-studied community of Antarctic fur seals.

Getting to grips with an old BI tradition: Gin and Tonics on the Jetty.

During the breeding season Bird Island is home to an enormous population of furries. The males arrive first to stake their claim on a patch of land, and in-between the occasional tousles, there seems to be a large amount of napping and waiting around, until one day, the ladies (with their hugely swollen bellies) lumber up the beach and pick out a nice spot to get comfortable in. From then on the males are constantly on alert, charging around, rounding up females as they pass through their patch and chasing off any other males who infringe on the invisible boundaries.

The males on their patches of turf wait eagerly for the females to arrive.

Often the females deliver their pups only a day or two after appearing on the beach, and we arrived just in time to see the first pup born on SSB. During my first morning at work, three puppies were born so along with counting, identifying and mapping the adults, it was straight into the puppy madness.

The first few females on the beach with their pups (the small, black, fluffy things) and big male guard keeping watch.

The pups are great when they are first born and still trying to get used to their ungainly flippers. It must be hard as an aquatic mammal when your first experience of the world is having your face rubbed in a load of gravel. I guess its like a light bulb going off when the pups first venture into the water a few weeks after birth. Suddenly the flappy, cumbersome flippers make sense and moving around is easy (although it still takes a while before anything you could class as swimming occurs. For a long time it just seems to be very enthusiastic splashing).

A young puppy (with a fat belly full of milk) looks a bit embarrassed to be caught in the midst of fighting with her own flippers while her mother sleeps on unaware.

The Journey South

A long time in the making..

So I guess that taking 10 months between my first and second entries probably makes me THE WORST BLOGGER EVER. But I do have a valid excuse: This job is insane!! (Also the Internet connection on our teeny little island is terrible and waiting for web pages to load takes a long old time!)

So in an effort to catch up, I will start doing a few short entries starting with the trip down:

The Journey South

After a horribly tearful goodbye to my family I shuffled onto the minibus and off towards RAF Brize Norton. From there we flew to the Ascension Islands where we stumbled off the plane and into a caged area where we stood around for a while, got rained on and then hopped back onto the re-fuelled plane. While in the ‘cage’ I noticed a sticker from the University Air Squadron that I had been in when I was a student. It’s only a small thing, but it made me smile at the thought of people I knew being here before me, standing in the same place, so far from home.

Toilet stop at Ascension Island where previous visitors had left their marks.

  

The rest of the flight was long, long, long, but we eventually arrived in the sunny and very windy Falklands. I got far too excited about the penguin stamp in my passport before my dodgy looking face got me stopped at security for a bag check. After opening 5 different pockets of my rucksack, which all promptly exploded with packets of sweets (lovingly wedged in there by my Mum), an exasperated security man sent me off shaking his head and convinced that I was headed to the sub-Antarctic with nothing but 60 litres of vegetarian Haribo.

Memorising what sunshine feels like next to the Whale-bone Arch

We bundled onto a mini bus which got us half way across the island before the side fell off. The bus driver pulled over and a few of us took the opportunity to dart up the nearest hillock, before it was decided that "it’ll probably be fine" and we hurtled off towards the ship which was waiting in Stanley harbour. After a whistle-stop tour of Stanley, (a weirdly hot and sunny ghost town) we boarded the RRS James Clarke Ross for the final stage of the journey!!

Commerson's Dolphins circling the JCR as we wait to set sail

I love being at sea, but unfortunately my body does not. Somewhere on the list of requirements for a Marine Biologist is written "sturdy old sea legs" however I seem to have missed that. I did my usual trick of swallowing sea-sickness tablets like Smarties and spending every waking hour out on deck looking for whales and being blasted in the face by the winds of the Southern Ocean which seemed to work ok, still I counted down the days until we reached the island.

Fighting off the sea sickness with a refreshing breeze!

Waiting to get on the RIB. Just a little bit excited...

Bird Island is a tricky place to land and its not unusual for ships to have to wait a few days for calmer seas before sending the RIBs down. Luckily, the sea was calm enough for us to go straight to the island without delays. Everyone but Penguin Man and I went in the first RIB-load, and we were left giddy with excitement on the snowy deck, unable to see the island through the mist but happily watching the fur seals that were swimming past the boat in small groups. Then all of a sudden we were off the JCR and speeding away to our new home!!

Like (great-great-grand) father like (great-great-grand) daughter..

I have wanted to go to the Antarctic for what feels like forever! My initial knowledge of the region came from my Dad who has always read about early exploration there and has shelves full of Polar Expedition books. My great great grandfather Jim sailed with Scott and Shackleton and the family stories about him have always inspired me (cheesy I know.. but still!) so I jumped at the opportunity to go down South as a seal biologist at the British Antarctic Survey's research station on Bird Island.

The location of my new home starting in November!

In his early 20s James William Dell, or Jim, sailed south as a Royal Naval able seaman in a voyage led by Robert Falcon Scott on the vessel Discovery.  This British National Antarctic Expedition took place between 1901 and 1904 and was among the first of the British ventures in the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. During the expedition Scott, Dr Edward A. Wilson and Ernest H. Shackleton made their first attempt to reach the South Pole, and though unsuccessful, they got closer than anyone had before.

Jim Dell in the crew photo onboard the Discovery, 1901

Jim was involved in 2 sledging expeditions but later cut himself flensing a seal, an injury which became infected and was probably what we now know as seal finger (being only scientifically described for the first time 3 years later in 1907). This infection would now be treated using very powerful antibiotics but formerly the only real option was amputation. In what was then a miracle of an operation Jim’s lymph nodes in his armpit were removed and he was very lucky to escape with his arm otherwise intact.

Photograph of a Discovery sledging party, taken by or including my great great granddad

The Discovery was almost abandoned after becoming stuck in the Antarctic ice for longer than anticipated, but it was finally freed and the crew returned safely to the UK. Scientific investigations during the expedition shed new light on Antarctic biology, oceanography, geology and meteorology, and the voyage was the beginning of Scott and Shackleton’s subsequent attempts to reach the South Pole.

The Discovery trapped in the Antarctic ice

After serving in the First World War and his later retirement from the Navy, Jim was asked to sail with Shackleton again, this time on the vessel Quest on the Shackleton-Rowett Expedition of 1921-1922.  During the course of this voyage Shackleton passed away, and was later buried on South Georgia, signalling for many, the end of the Heroic and Golden Age of Antarctic Exploration. 

Onboard the Quest (centre top row), 1921

Jim went on to serve in the Coastguard during the Second World War and in his retirement he became founder member of the Antarctic Club. He died in 1968 at the age of 88, only a few years after he stopped doing headstands. My Dad remembers very little of  Jim other than the stuffed emperor penguin which lived at the top of his staircase.

Now I'm heading down to South Georgia on my own adventure, with far less peril and isolation, but still daunting enough! I'm so excited about finally getting to the sub-Antarctic and getting to play with/sensibly and scientifically study the incredible wildlife.

Getting some training in: A bit of old fashioned seal tummy tickling on North Rona